Birthdays
by Mikael-Macbeth
Summary: XXX Two-chapter ONE-SHOT, Twincest: Vergil/Dante XXX Memories of birthdays are the most touching and treacherous of things.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry, but I think I should. There would be less fighting and more twincest. :3_

**AN: Wow, I feel like I'm really taking a departure from my ususal series to do this. I just recently beat the third DMC, and then I borrowed the first one from a friend, and since obtaining the X-BOX360, I've been hooked on the fourth one. Usually, I enjoy my strategic FFs, but I just have to cut loose every now and again to beat the shit outta demons. XD**

**I'm a bit new to the DMC series, so a bit of this might be... shaky. I did my best, though. This takes place between the DMC3 and the first DMC. Wow, that's weird, even when I write it. XD AND YES, this is _TWINCEST_, meaning that Dante and Vergil are slightly romantically involved (though the implications of romance are very few, sadly...). If that's not your kind of thing, I'd suggest clicking the "Back" button now. Feel free to flame, however, but exepect a nice, lengthy reply from me.**

**This is split into two parts because of length, rated "T" for dropping the "G-D" and "F" -bombs (both, of course, from Dante's mouth), and I apologize for my rambling. XD**

**Enjoy~**

**EDIT: I realized too late (after I had posted this) that Vergil didn't have the ForceEdge, and I wrote that he _did_. And my OCD for canon couldn't prevent me from just leaving it alone. So there. Enjoy... NOW. :D**

**---**

**Birthdays - Part I**

**By Eden**

Within the dimly-lit room-for it might be classified as a room, as it had walls, though the walls weren't exactly made of what normal walls would be made of; flesh usually wasn't available for forging houses-walked a lone figure. And then came a voice. It was a calm voice, sure and steady, and never once faltering:

"Lord Mundus, are you there?"

A glow resonated within the darkness, disembodied from the walls, and yet part of them. The three fiery orbs choreographed themselves in a distinct triangular pattern as it answered the voice.

"_Of course, Vergil. I am always here. What is so important that you would rouse me from my rest?"_

Vergil, the owner of the calm, sure, steady voice, (and who had long since abandoned his long blue trenchcoat for a not-so-subtly evil suit of black armor) bowed to his master and said, "Lord Mundus, I have been... thinking."

"_Oh?"_ was all that the three orbs said. Short and sweet, but it was clear to Vergil that his master was not pleased that one of his pawns had actually stooped to _thinking_. Doing that meant that he might have the cognition to actually _do _things autonomously from the puppet master. Vergil knew that actions like these would surely cost him his free will in the future.

"I am aware of your recent interest in the human world. Phantom and Griffon have made your intentions clear to me. However, and I do not mean to say that you are at all _inferior_, but there is much about the human world that is still unclear to you."

The three orbs seemed offended; it was apparent by the brightening of the calm red glow to a burning crimson.

_"Vergil, I have been to the human world! To say that I know nothing of it is blasphemous!"_

The walls began to quake, but Vergil quickly interjected with, "Please, Mun-I mean, _Lord_ Mundus, I meant that the human world has definitely changed since your last visit, and I think that it would be wise for someone to... _scout _ahead."

Shuddering within the walls ceased, and Mundus' fire lessened.

_"Ah, I see. How wise of you," _Mundus said, though there still seemed a lingering caution in his resounding voice. _"And so you wish to go to the human realm to do this... scouting?"_

"Do you not trust me?"

The three orbs were quiet for a small time, and Vergil could tell that Mundus was thinking. Then: _"Very well, Vergil; I do believe that you are worthy of my trust. After all, haven't you proven to me time and again, with both your skill and diligence, that you are truly _my_ 'Nelo Angelo'?"_

Vergil smiled, leaning deeper into his bow as to hide it from his _master_, "I should think so, Lord Mundus. I have served you faithfully until now. When I challenged you all that time ago, you spared me, and ever since then, I have kept my promise of loyalty."

Vergil knew he was playing it up, but the three glowing orbs seemed pleased.

_"Then go. Go to the human world. And do not return until you have fulfilled your mission."_

The spheres dissipated and Vergil raised his head. He handled the hilt of his sword; the twisted smile on his face was unmistakable.

"Ugh, goddammit, tastes like fuckin' _vomit_."

The clatter of the bottle against the hardwood floor resounded throughout the empty office, and Dante was left to stare up at the ceiling. He had hoped that after downing his third bottle that the liquor might start tasting more appealing, but unfortunately, the more he drank, the fouler it became.

_Two weeks_ since a job. Not a single customer in need of any demon slaying. What the fuck was up with that? Didn't demons always find a way to sneak into the human realm, wreaking havoc, causing mass mayhem and homicides by the hundreds? Wasn't there any of _that_ going on anymore?

Dante guessed not. Hell, he hadn't had to put on his damn _jacket_ in a week. He may as well have been laying there _naked_. He was certain no one would walk in on him. And even if someone did, well, was that really _so_ bad?

And it was here that his mind began to wander.

Ugh, he _hated_ it when it came down to this: just him, and the ceiling.

Because then came the silence, and then came the memories.

Sometimes he wondered if his mother was in Heaven. Seriously, if _Hell_ existed, shouldn't the opposite be out there, somewhere, as well? Or perhaps God, or whatever, was so pissed off at her for getting it on with a demon that she was dipped into the worst oil-vat in Hell.

He wondered if Lady was okay. She could take care of herself, Dante was certain. Ever since she had murdered her father, that demonic Arkham, he knew that she was probably much more... _liberated_, less caged. He sincerely hoped for her happiness... even though she _did_ shoot him in the goddamn _head_.

And then... sometimes, when everyone else had passed through his thoughts, he began to think about...

No, he _wouldn't_.

He just _couldn't._

_Those_ memories were ones that were better left alone...

He scratched his bare chest once, and he began to drift. Drift off... _somewhere._

_The birthday cake consumed, the twins meandered into the gloom, watching as the fireflies danced through the spaces of twilight. One bounced on his heels, blissfully content with the hike through the forest; the other walked silently, brushing aside vines that tickled the bare skin of his arms and legs._

_"You think Mom'll have any more presents for us when we get back, Vergil? I mean, those two amulets she gave us were pretty, but not all _that_ impressive. I don't know what was so important about 'em for her to tell us to _take good care of them. _I was kinda hopin', ya know, for something more... _high-tech_."_

_Vergil, the quieter of the two (obviously), remained impassive, as per usual. He was always thinking, always trying to reach out and grasp what was beyond him. Never content. Always reminding himself that he and his counterpart never quite belonged in _any_ realm. His mother never spoke of it, but he knew. He just knew. Because it was _so_ obvious. _Painfully_ obvious._

_"Greed is a _sin_, Dante," Vergil prodded jokingly. "Aren't you afraid of going to _Hell_ for that?" And of course, Vergil wouldn't have minded going there, if only once. There was no way it was as bad as everyone _said_ it was._

_Dante ceased bouncing a moment or two, contemplating this question, before going back to the land of childhood in which he was so deliriously encased. Of course, this was due to the fact that he was only ten-well, _eleven_ now-and he had a right to be happy-go-lucky. Every kid did, even if he wasn't exactly _normal_._

_But enough of that._

_"Nah. You think too much, Verg. You should live a little!"_

_Bounce, bounce, and the fireflies skittered into the brush. They had made it into the clearing, where in the center of the meadow stood a large weeping willow, its ancient branches beginning to droop with age._

_"And maybe you live too _much_," Vergil muttered back, smoothing out the wrinkles in his blue t-shirt as it snagged on a branch. Dante, however, hadn't heard him, for he had already grappled his fingers into the rough bark and begun his trek up the side._

_"Last one up's a rotten egg!" Dante yelled out, his white hair swooping in a sudden updraft, causing the unsteady branches to suddenly sway._

_"Dante, we're too heavy to climb up this thing! I swear, if I have to carry you back with a broken, bloody nose, I'll beat you to a pulp, and Mom said that-"_

_"Awe, you _scared_?" Dante taunted his same-faced brother, climbing up into the branches, resembling a monkey, if only for a moment._

_Vergil felt his face redden. He prided himself on being a rational, responsible person; he should have just allowed the mockery to roll right off of him. However, a challenge was a challenge, and he still had his honor._

_"I'll make you _eat_ those words!" Vergil called up, his voice hitching with something as unpracticed as excitement, as his skinny arms latched around the giant tree and he began his scramble to catch up to Dante. However, he already knew that his twin was miles ahead of him, and after squishing multiple lightning bugs, getting their sticky neon goo on his fingers, and being scratched up by twigs and leaves, he was met by a grinning Dante at the top. The boy was stretched out on the branch in a self-proclaimed "victory pose."_

_"You, my friend, are _so_ a rotten egg. So rotten, I could smell you all the way from up _here_."_

_"Shut up."_

_The two silenced as the night began to settle around them. A cricket chirped here, a spring peeper called out there. The month called for warm, sound-filled darkness, in which the two boys were silently in awe._

_"You think... thing's'll always be this nice? That me and you will always be together, and Mom'll always be taking care of us?"_

_Vergil started at the sudden sound of Dante's voice. It was filled with such reflection and sadness that it scared the more serious boy. Dante and remorseful words didn't exactly go together like socks and shoes or rhyme and reason._

_And-as time had passed and this same question had popped into Vergil's mind more than once-it made him uncertain as to how he should answer the inquiry of his sibling. He loved Dante, almost as much as he loved himself. They were _twins_, after all. The most inseparable of beings. At times, Vergil wondered if they were supposed to have been one entity, but were instead split into two._

_And then Dante would do something completely stupid to prove how different they truly were._

_But, all the same, Vergil loved Dante, and Dante loved Vergil._

_Still... was love _enough_?_

_Vergil put his arm around his other half, pulling him close, and a smile tugged at Dante's lips as he answered, "Of... of _course_, Dante. Don't worry about it."_

Vergil opened his eyes, the surroundings blurred slightly. Whether it was from the moisture in his eyes or the transfer from one dimension to another, he wasn't about to question.

The memory was always painful to him, especially now that he had immersed himself so deeply into being _Nelo Angelo_. At times, he wished that Mundus had decimated him instead of allowing him to live. Then he could have died, still truly _Vergil_,and wouldn't have to be plagued with these haunting images of a life long past.

And maybe... what if Dante had managed to capture his hand as he was falling back into the pits of Hell?

He remembered the last time he had seen Dante-that look of utmost hatred melting away into nothing, being replaced with something similar to concern and love. It took Vergil's breath away to think that Dante would still _care _for him, even after all the things he had done to him, even after all the hatred and battles and bloodshed.

Once more, Vergil had to push all of these things away from him, as far away as possible.

It was best that he kept those memories caged.

He would see Dante soon, anyway.

Very soon, he knew.

As Vergil began to trek down the rain-swept street, he simply allowed his face to become drenched in wetness. He wasn't sure when he would ever be able to feel this free again.


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: Still don't own Devil May Cry. Bawww. D:_

**AN: Part Two.**

**...Yup, that's about it. XD**

**Again, twincest. A little more romance in this one. Avert your eyes if ye are of shaky-twincestual-fearing stomach. ;D**

**EDIT: Same as previous chapter. So, enjoy! C:**

**EDIT... AGAIN: Found another mistake. NOW enjoy. ...For real. XD**

**---**

**Birthdays - Part II**

**By Eden**

Sweat drenched Dante's body, and as he sat up, trying to shake away the disorientation that had overtaken him, he realized he must have been dreaming again.

_Why_?

Why did that dream always haunt him?

He didn't want to remember Vergil, ever again. He didn't want to remember the broken promise. Dante was an adult, of course, and promises, he knew, were things that came and went. But it _meant_ something to him. He had _believed _Vergil with every fiber of his being.

And then, after _that_ time, when he thought that Vergil was forever gone, he steeled himself away from emotions. Everything became sarcastically twisted in his eyes. Though Dante was obviously the much more physically strong of the two, it was ultimately the blow that destroyed his hope.

And then... Vergil was _alive_.

But... he didn't know how to feel.

Dante closed his eyes again, pressing a hand to his forehead and allowing his breath to escape slowly.

His heart... _hurt_.

Removing his hand, he stood the rest of the way and stalked to his coat, pulling out a stray cigarette and a lighter. Dante didn't make smoking a habit, but what the fuck? It wasn't like _that_ would be the thing to kill him.

Lighting up, he began to tread the floor, his boots clonking as he went.

Something caught his eye, and he felt his chest tighten again.

The closet door was open, and there sitting on the floor, as though just _taunting_ him, was a photo album. Certainly, _someone_ was messing with him. And it was pissing him off.

"How the _fuck_?" he murmured, considering slamming that fucking door with all his strength, just to make a goddamn point, but he stopped. Hell, he was feeling nostalgic, so why not?

Dante flung the door the rest of the way and grappled the album, fingering the book cover that was very obviously his mother's handiwork. God, she _loved_ to sew.

Wandering back toward the couch and sitting heavily down upon it, he let his fingers feel the smooth cloth. Man, she could really _sew_. Finally, he pressed his hand to the inner cover and opened it up.

It was pathetic that the first photo was the one to get him all choked up.

---

_"What is it that you two are fighting about _now_?"_

_Vergil refused to look at his brother and Dante did the same. Neither of them spoke._

_Their mother sighed, placing her hands on her hips and simply standing there. If she stood there long enough, one of them would eventually start talking. That was the way it worked. It was a shame that she had to do _this_ on the boys' twelfth birthday._

_"He broke it," Vergil finally said._

_"Broke what?"_

_"Whatever he tells you, Mom, it's a _lie_!" Dante interjected, punching his twin on the arm and eliciting a wail from him._

_However, their mother placed a hand on each of their shoulders to prevent anymore brawling before saying, and with her kindest and most motherly tone, "Now, you tell me what's broken and I promise that neither of you will be in trouble."_

_A little more silence, then:_

_"Well, we were playing with our birthday presents, you see, and Dante told me that there was a secret one hidden in your closet-"_

_"_Liar!_"_

_"Go on, Vergil," their mother calmly spoke, tightening her grip on her more rambunctious son's shoulder._

_"So, we were in your room, and while I was in the closet looking for the so-called 'secret present,' he locked the door behind me so I couldn't get out! And then I started ramming into the door, and then he unlocked it, and I fell out and-"_

_"We broke your China doll!" Dante screamed pitifully._

_"We're so sorry, Mom!!" they cried in unison, flinging themselves onto their mother, hoping for dear mercy._

_They blubbered a while, and after that was over, she wiped their tears away with a gentle smile._

_"You know, your father gave that to me as a gift, after our wedding," she said to them, her voice soft and wonderful. She always had the best voice when it came to comforting sad little boys._

_"R-Really?" Vergil asked, snuffling a little bit and wiping his nose with the back of his hand. It was gross, but it was better than having it run in rivulets down his face._

_"Yes. He was always buying me things. Those amulets I gave to you last year were a gift to me, as well."_

_"Wow," Dante whispered, wiping his nose as well._

_"Mom? You don't talk a lot about Dad... Why not?"_

_Their mother smiled sweetly, but there was such an obvious hint of sadness to it._

_"Because I love him very much... More than anything else in the world. And I don't talk a lot about him so that I can keep all of his memories close to me and none of them can flutter away," she answered, resting her arms around her two precious boys. "And maybe, someday, you two will have people who are that close to you."_

_The three of them stood silent for a moment before she finally closed their conversation with "Now, come on, let's go clean up he mess you two made."_

_"It was _his_ fault," Vergil muttered._

_"Nuh-uh!"_

_The trio meandered down the hallway, two small voices arguing back and forth and one remaining silent as the mind recounted memories dear._

_---_

The "D" in _Devil May Cry_ flickered a few times before going completely black. If Vergil wasn't mistaken, he had made it to his destination. His brother's presence was just beyond that door, he knew.

Why was he so nervous, he wondered? He never recalled a time that he had felt so hesitant before. Not even when he had met his brother for the first time after his supposed "death," he had retained some sense of stability then.

But why now?

He must have been getting old. _Soft_.

Ugh.

He wondered how he would go about meeting his twin again, for the first time in what felt like _ages_. Of course, barging in was out of the question. That was just a stupid idea.

So, given his few options, Vergil splashed his feel through the streets and quietly-_gently_-pressed his hand to the door and carefully shoved.

Unlocked, of course.

This was _so_ Dante's place.

Oddly enough, the room was dead silent. Knowing Dante the way Vergil did, he would have expected there to be loud music and women gathered around Dante in the center, begging for him to do... _things_ to them. Blech.

However, there seemed not even a mouse to be squeaking-not even a creaky _ceiling-fan_ or a dripping _faucet_. It was even _more_ than dead silent, Vergil would say.

Which, of course, added to his uneasiness. At any moment, he expected _something_ to happen, but as the moments ticked by, he realized that nothing was happening.

His eyes scanned the establishment; he discerned a desk with a chair behind it, and stacks of pizza boxes stacked up and emptied of their contents. The only source of light came from a small lamp on the desk and the dim evening glow that filtered through the windows.

And then he spied a red leather couch, comfortable, probably, to whomever sat down upon it.

And there...

Vergil felt his breath catch in his throat, and every single feeling from every year of his life flooding his existence.

"..._Dante_."

The name curled through the air, like smoke, and Vergil felt himself stumbling to his brother's sleeping form. There he lay, the object of both his hatred and affections, with a photo album draped loosely over his chest, which heaved with each passing snore. Dante's cheeks, Vergil could see, were stained with tears.

With every fiber of his being carefully leashed, Vergil slipped the album off Dante's chest, and a single photo fluttered to the floor, after having been separated from its plastic cover slip. It slid to a stop face-up, and Vergil placed the album on the couch's arm and bent down to pick it up.

The image contained himself and Dante, during their thirteenth birthday, their faces illuminated by candles. Their arms were wrapped about one another, and huge smiles graced their faces.

A sigh escaped Vergil, and he looked to his twin for the first time since he began his service to Mundus. Why had he come here, he wondered. He knew that he would soon have to return to his master, empty-handed no less, and he would have to make up some story behind his venture-maybe that the humans were completely vulnerable and in the palm of their hands.

Really, Vergil wondered what he had been expecting from this encounter. Dante would most assuredly try to mercilessly pummel him, whether or not his _Nelo Angelo_ mask was in place. Dante could never accept him with open arms-never again. They could never be together again.

But--and this is where Vergil laughed, though only to himself--he just couldn't stand to be away. Not on this day.

Placing the photo within his armor and leaning in, Vergil slipped his glove from his hand and pushed back Dante's hair cautiously and pressed his lips to his forehead. Everything seemed to pass into this one moment that he wanted to forever remember as he whispered to his twin, "Happy birthday... Dante. I miss you and... I _love_ you."

---

Dante sat up, his hand grappling for his sword. His hand flew to the Rebellion (which, of course, he _always_ kept near him) and it was raised outward from him, the blade making a distinct "_schwing"_ as it flew through the air. His head twisted this way and that, his sliver hair stuck to his damp forehead, and once more he had quite a time getting a bearing on his surroundings.

_Dammit_, he had fallen asleep _again_!

However, he was certain he had felt... _something-someone_... leaning over him, but now the room was completely empty.

Something deep down, however, told Dante that he knew _exactly_ who it was who had come to visit him. Call it instinct, or some higher force at work, but he just _knew_.

And that... _eased_ him.

If only a little.

Dante rubbed the sleep from his eyes and grimaced. He knew, deep down, that he couldn't have stayed, even if he had wanted to. With sadness filling Dante's heart, he knew that it was best that it remain this way.

Once he had finished fixing up his eyes, Dante noticed the album draped on the couch arm and cautiously took hold of it. He distinctly remembered that just kinda falling onto his chest before he conked out. His eyebrows furrowed when he noticed that the first picture was missing...

"Excuse me, but are you the guy who _gets the job done, no matter what it is_?"

Dante peered up and saw a young lady with wet hair standing in the doorway, her hands clasped together nervously as she entered the room with all the timidity of a wounded deer.

And the demon slayer gave a sly grin, the missing photo forgotten, and grabbed his Rebellion once more and the coat from the coat-rack as he walked over to her.

"Yep, that would be me. Of course, if I don't like it, I won't do it, but that's yet to be seen, _missy_."

_Yes_, Dante thought to himself, _it was back to business_.

He only hoped that things would keep his mind off of... all those _feelings_.

After all, if he thought about them too much, they just might flutter away.

---

_"Why did you... do that?"_

_Dante paused, uncertain of why his brother was so perplexed by his action._

_"Well, it was the only birthday present that I could think to give you. And... it's because I love you, Vergil, and I want to be with you forever."_

_Vergil passed a hand over his lips. Despite how different they were-despite all the fights and all the horrible things they said and did to one another-Vergil knew he felt the same. It was odd that it was coming out this way now. He was thirteen now, and he knew that, deep down, he should have felt ashamed or dirty, but somehow, he didn't. It felt... _right_._

_He repeated his brother's action; carefully leaning in and feeling the other's breath coming out, hot against his lips. Then, feeling the odd tug at his stomach, he closed the distance, their lips meeting carefully, chastely._

_He pulled back._

_"Dante... you're the one... that I keep close to me," Vergil admitted, "and if you want to be with me forever, then I'll try my best to keep that promise."_

_They both smiled in unison._

_"Dante! Vergil! It's time for cake!"_

_The two boys jerked at the sound of their mother's voice. They looked to one another, each one of them hesitantly feeling for the other's hand._

_"So... we'll be together forever?" Dante asked hesitantly._

_And Vergil answered, "I promise-for many, many birthdays to come."_


End file.
